


Stubborn Stern

by bambabam



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Hank Anderson, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is Bad at Feelings, Hank Anderson is So Done, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23141983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bambabam/pseuds/bambabam
Summary: Connor Stern isn't an idiot, but he sure does act like one.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 95





	Stubborn Stern

Connor Stern is not an idiot, per se.

He is far from being one, actually— scoring the top of his exams during his academy days, dry wit and quick thinking accompanying his snide remarks to draw confessions out of perps, a sharp mind able to reconstruct events and connect bits and pieces to form a logical synopsis of a crime.

"I am content in where I am at the moment, Detective Stern," Hank says smoothly, for the third time for the past 43 minutes. He fixes Connor his special "cool stare", dubbed by the detective himself, the one that makes the suspects fidget and all jittery, the one that makes even Nines, as collected as he may be, sweat bullets under his turtleneck shirts. "I believe I have stated this multiple times now. I do not understand what you mean."

The detective clears his throat, exhaling sharply through his nose as he straightens up and leans on the armrest of his couch. "I'm _saying_ ," Connor huffs, sighing as he crosses his arms over his chest, stubbornly refusing to meet Hank's blank stare, "You can do whatever you want. You can leave, fucking travel the world or something. You're your own person now. I don't really care what you do." 

To Hank's chagrin (and to some point, amusement), he is absolutely sure that Connor is lying— quite badly, at that— through his teeth. He doesn't even have to consult his lie-detecting programs to check. Hank knows that, and for sure Connor knows that he knows that. Even someone with half a brain could gather that the detective cares very much for the android, and vice versa. It is evident from the faster heartbeat whenever Hank was around to the lingering gazes to the flushing of his cheeks whenever Hank would give praise. 

Connor Stern is not an idiot, but he sure does act like one.

_I don't mind working in the DPD._ Hank has already said, repeatedly, forcefully even, to no avail. _I am doing this on my own accord._

_I don't want to leave you,_ was left unsaid, however. _I love you, you idiot detective._

Hank tilts his head, and starts to open his mouth to speak, but the detective is a bit faster. "And stop analyzing me, for Christ's sake," Connor adds, hastily, and accidentally makes eye contact while he does so. The brunet curses under his breath when he realizes his mistake, flushing slightly as he evades Hank's penetrating gaze, and Hank would have found the unnatural withdrawn behavior cute if it wasn't so annoying.

Hank crosses his arms, too. He is getting tired of Connor's shit, as what the detective would cite whenever the younger two of the triplets— Sixty or Nines get on his nerves. The android has spent far too much time with the crabby detective that it was impossible not to catch his snappish attitude and how to deal with it effectively. 

"Fine." The android snaps, finally. It seems it is the correct thing to do, as Connor's shifty eyes suddenly find his, wide with disbelief and confusion. It looks as though he did not anticipate this kind of behavior from the android; however, judging by his gulp and his sudden focus on Hank's tone, the change in the android's demeanor is far from unwelcome. "Anything, you say. What about any _one_?"

Hank doesn't remotely even want to hear what snarky reply Connor has to say to that. Instead, he sees Connor's eyes widen in surprise; he sees pink rush to Connor's freckled cheeks, sees Connor's eyes close and he feels the softness of Connor's lips on his. He feels Connor's hands settle and grip on his lapels tightly when Hank's own snake around Connor's waist, he tastes the smoke and the traces of margarita when Hank opens his mouth and licks at Connor's bottom lip. Hank hears Connor gasp and feels the small quiver the detective makes when he opens his mouth, too, and allows Hank's probing tongue to explore and taste everything.

It almost feels like forever and nothing at the same time when Connor pulls away for air, breathing hard, cheeks flushed and looking completely wrecked. There is a twinge somewhere in Hank's wirings, and he decides that making Connor look like this is a primary objective only Hank should be able to do.

"Fuck," Connor breathes, as eloquently as ever, and Hank has to fight back an uncharacteristic snort. His detective's brown eyes (beautiful under the sun, half-lidded, diluted pupils, eyebrows scrunched together) scan the android's face for any response, but they eventually settle on Hank's slightly parted lips. Connor licks his own— a nervous tick, Hank vaguely remembers through the haze on his artificial brain, and the irrational, deviant part in himself wants to bite them and hear whatever sounds Connor has in store for that. 

Hank smirks at the thought, and leans to bite Connor's earlobe. Connor gasps and writhes as Hank's teeth make contact with the sensitive flesh, and the shiver that runs through Connor's body is enough to make everything— any command and any calculation and any analysis and every _fucking_ thing— in Hank's processing unit vanish. Connor's hands tighten their grip in the android's gray uniform, and Hank is surprised that he finds that he doesn't mind the thought of it wrinkling at all.

"Later," Hank promises, his lips leaving Connor's ear to latch on his neck instead. Connor quivers, again, gasping as his trembling hands find purchase on the back of Hank's neck, slender fingers grasping Hank's hair as he tilts his head for better access. The android hums in approval, sucking and nipping new marks in the detective's fair skin, biting as though he wants to rival the freckles littered in Connor's body. Connor, if the rocking of his hips and the encouraging moans of Hank's name is anything to go by, doesn't seem to mind at all.

(Nines comments on Connor's fashion choices the next day when the eldest Stern arrives to work donning a dark turtleneck, and Hank has to ignore Nines' android, Gavin's low whistles when he heads up to the android help center to heal the long scratches on his back.)

**Author's Note:**

> wKWBDKENDJDHEHF THEY HIT ME WITH THE FEELS ???????? I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
> 
> also i'm in love with reverse au!!! hank,, as an android??????? connor as a smoking hot (pun intended) detective who is incredibly bad at his feelings???????? count me the fucc in!!!!!
> 
> aaAaaanyway hope you liked this litte fic of mine, comments and kudos are very very very appreciated!!


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